


it's funny, those four letters

by TheRagingThespian



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRagingThespian/pseuds/TheRagingThespian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy really just wanted to know her name, but "Batman" wasn't exactly what she had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's funny, those four letters

**Author's Note:**

> From the tumblr prompt: you give me a different fake name every time you come into starbucks and I just want to know your real name bc ur cute but here I am scrawling “batman” onto your stupid cappuccino  
> (found here: http://nerds-are-cool.tumblr.com/post/133544218971/if-youre-struggling-for-au-ideas-take)
> 
> I take prompts. Let's talk about superlane. theragingthespian.tumblr.com

Lucy Lane is not an optimist.

She's not a pessimist either though. Preferring to stay within the bounds of reality, she comfortably considers herself a realist.

Her father's and Lois’ relationship magically correcting itself merely on the basis of _love_ ? Highly unlikely. If both sides actually _tried_ instead of the awkward glances they call “family dinners”? Maybe something better could be produced, but nothing close to the father-daughter relationship that Hallmark portrays as natural.

(When her father is gone and Lois isn't gracing them with one of her visits, she watches movie after movie.

Of love and families, of fathers and daughters and sisters.

She tries to act as if it's not an action born out of longing.)

The job she's taken up at a local coffee shop in an effort to diminish the school loans that already have her head reeling even before law school? She's not expecting a huge dent to be made, but if even the interest can be paid off, it'll be acceptable.

(She will not ask for help. Living at home is enough.

Rent is always left on the table and anything she eats replaced. Her father says nothing, but the money is always gone when she looks later.

Lucy Lane takes handouts from no one.)

So forgive her if, after trudging through the downpour, losing her cheatsheet to a test scheduled later today, and being on the receiving end of a wave of water as taxi after taxi ignored her raised hand, she doesn't consider this a _good morning_.

The cheerful words are spoken with such happiness that it catches her off guard more so than the actual words themselves.

(She's used to people slinking in like zombies at this hour. While she's used to waking up with the unwelcome dawn, these students unfortunate enough to have morning classes and workers hoping to beat the morning rush are definitely not.

Used to glazed eyes. Small frowns that only slighten with a sip of coffee.

Not a cheerful greeting.)

Bright blue eyes that _glitter_ , and oh, she never thought she'd describe someone as that, but they do, and a smile that had Lucy smiling right back.

(Which is something in of itself, because she is proficient, providing just enough attention to customers so not to be rude before fulfilling their order and moving on.

She doesn't engage in worthless commentary.

She doesn't.)

Lucy chances a look outside to check, and yes, it’s still dark and dreary outside. “I'm not too sure about the good part.”

(Okay, maybe she will.)

The girl sighs softly, shaking her head and looking just a tad nostalgic. “The rain here is beautiful. Refreshing and bringing life.”

“Here?”

“Oh”, she laughs, and it's high and nervous. Lucy can't help but think, it's not her normal laugh because she seems like the type to have one that's full and encompassing and _warm_. “Not too much rain and not too little?”

Lucy wants to point out that she didn't really answer her question and that her “answer” sounds more like question than a statement, but that would assume she still has the girl's attention.

Which, if it's any clue from the girl's face plastered against their display case, is more focused on sweets.

Lucy hums, “Do you know what you want?”

“Oh. Ha, sorry. A spiced pumpkin with extra foam”, she pauses, leaning on the counter and suddenly becoming very interested in the notches on its surface that Lucy will swear she didn't make before glancing up with a soft smile, “and a little cinnamon on top?”

Her heart races a little, tripping over itself to resume it's normal pace.

(It's because she's dreading that test today. That's all. Nothing else.

And definitely not because _oh_ , that smile, it suits her.)

“Sure.” Her voice jumps at the end of it, so she clears her voice, drawing herself up like she's seen her father do. “Coming right up. Name?”

“Hmm”, she looks thoughtful for a moment, tapping her jaw while a playful smile spreads over her face, and Lucy tries to tame her bewilderment at having to _think_ when asked her name. “Oh!” She claps her hands, twining them together at the last clap, and leans forward again before dropping her voice and, “ _Batman_.”

Lucy blinks. Works her jaw, because she didn't really just say that did she?

“Batman, really”, she deadpans, drumming her fingers.

She gets a solemn nod in response. “I trust you to keep this between us”, she giggles, and Lucy's fingers stutter in their motions, “civilian.”

Lucy shakes her head, tries not to focus too hard on the humming coming from the girl as she fixes her order, but oh, it’s nice. Just loud enough to be heard, but it carries a strength with it, a quality of emotion that has her tilting her head to figure out.

(Maybe taking this job with it’s too many hours, too low of pay, and too bright customer who manages to smile as if it will beckon to sun to come out wasn’t such a bad idea.)

Lucy tries not to watch as she plops the drink in the pick-up area, reluctantly calling out “Batman.” In a second, she’s bounding over, smile illuminating the building better than any of the dull lighting. She waves, hand falling heavily to each slide, slow and awkward as if she's not entirely use to the motion before slipping out the door, bell chiming as she exits.

Lucy clenches her fists, forces out a harsh breath through her nose.

She didn’t even get her name.

* * *

 

She becomes a usual. A usual pain, Lucy tells James over breaks and lunches. He rolls his eyes every time, nudges her shoulders with this easy look in his eyes that suggests he wants to say more but never does.

To be fair, he usually says enough.

(“ _She was in there_ again _this morning!”_

James sits up, pitching his voice high to imitate her, “ _With her smile, and blue eyes, and blonde hair, and oh, did I mention a smile_ ?” Lucy winces purely because his voice is _too_ high to be mocking her, not because she pays attention to the exaggerations spilling from him.

Not even exaggeration. Out right lies, because she did _not_ say any of that.)

She’ll concede that calling her a pain is a bit much, but it’s not her smiles or greetings or somehow perfectly pitched humming.

It’s because she still hasn’t found out her damn _name_.

Wonder Woman. Aquaman. Superman. All accompanied by a smirk and that lively glint in her eyes.

She’s gotten information, sure. She’s a student as well. Journalism. It goes along with the pen marks that smear the girl’s palms and work their way up her arms. She prefers writing on paper rather than computers and had launched into how the _feeling_ of a piece can be changed merely from that. She’s new to the city, following her sister’s tracks to here.

But still no first and last name.

Lucy could always ask, but she’s noticed it’s become something of a game between them. To ask would be to lose.

She doesn’t lose.

(The girl is meticulous. Lucy acknowledges that freely, because their game has gotten so out of hand that even her coworkers who speak to the girl with familiarity won’t reveal her name.

The obstruction irks her instantly.

The flash of teeth and lips tilting upwards every morning lessens it.)

* * *

 

Her chance comes when the girl is accompanied by a woman. Short, brown hair frames eyes that dart around the room multiple times within her first few steps of entering. Lucy straightens in response. She’s seen that look before. Every glance at her father reveals it.

(Sometimes, she thinks, she sees it in the mirror.)

The woman glances toward the girl when she responds with “The Flash” with confusion, and Lucy manages to not smash her own head into the counter when realization sinks in.

She doesn’t know about the game.

Lucy waits until she’s alone, spying the girl talking to the cashier, and takes her chance. One step in the woman’s direction has her head snapping up, eyes narrowing at her. Lucy pushes her shoulders back, juts out her chin, and takes deliberate steps towards her.

“Do you need something?”

She’s direct, and Lucy breathes out a sigh, because, well, she can handle direct. It’s only once she receives an expectant look does she realize she doesn’t exactly have a plan. “I”, she turns, relieved to find the girl still busy, “She comes here all the time, just wanted to make sure everything was correct.” She pauses, “Is everything correct Ms. . . ?”

There’s a huff, but it’s accompanied by a slight quirk of the lips. “Alex”, she looks down, taps their cups, “And yeah, everything’s fine.”

Lucy mentally thanks this woman for being _normal_ and giving a name unlike someone she knows when she remembers. The girl had mentioned an Alex before, and at first, she had assumed it to be her name until she realized it was her sister’s.

Mind processing, she decides to run with it. “Your sister must love this place. She comes here a lot.”

“Maybe”, Alex agrees coolly. “Though”, Alex grins, on the side of teasing, “I’m starting to understand why. I mean, besides the food, because Ka-”  
“Alex!” There’s a blonde blur, and then she’s beside her, shoving a bag at her sister, “Can you hold these for me? We need to get going.” She spins around to face her, smug smile planted on her face. “My sister, really?”

“I take any opportunity I see.”

Lucy sucks in a quick breath when she leans down, and oh, she’s taller than she thought, “ _Any_ opportunity, huh?”

But she is a _Lane_ , so she tilts her head back, meets blue, blue, _too_ blue eyes. “Yes.” She thinks she hears someone mutter an “ew”, but she doesn’t pay any mind to it because they’re close, close enough to feel the heat radiating from the girl.

“Then”, Lucy can almost imagine her breath on her lips, but she blinks and the girl steps away, eyes crinkling with laughter, “why don’t you just ask me?”

“I don’t like to lose.”

“Technically, I offered first”, she tilts her head, “how ‘bout we call it a tie?”

Lucy slowly looks around the room as if mulling over the offer, and while she may not appreciate losing, she’s also impatient. This presents a solution for both issues. She nods, “What’s your name?”  
“Kara Danvers.” Kara sticks out a hand, and Lucy takes it, surprised by the strength of the squeeze she receives.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

And she finds she can’t remember a time when she’s meant it so much.

* * *

 

“Hi Luce!”

Lucy smiles, turning to find Kara hopping in anticipation. For her. Without some personal gain or profit. Just her. “Hey.”

“Well”, Kara throws up her hands, “Don’t just leave me hanging! How’d your presentation go?”

“It went”, she laughs when Kara takes in a comically large breath of suspense, “well. Our practices really helped.” She reaches over the counter to grasp Kara’s hand, “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Lucy grins, finds she doesn’t mind that every time she’s around Kara, she smiles so much it hurts, “Usual?” Kara nods. “Name”, Lucy prompts, delighting in the way Kara’s eyes light up whenever she continues their banter.

Kara is quiet for a moment, seemingly needing a moment to ground herself. “Supergirl.”

Lucy chuckles, scrawling it across the cup with a flourish, nodding up to the screens behind her. “She’s been _super_ busy lately hasn’t she?”

National City’s very own crime fighter, complete with a matching set of tights that matches the Man of Steel.

Kara snorts at the pun, “I guess.” Kara cocks her head to the side, “You uh, you think she’s doing a good job?”

There’s something in that question that makes it feel weighted, like Lucy could say something horribly wrong here. “Sure.” She shrugs, “I mean, she had a few mistakes taking off, but who wouldn’t you know? She got better, she is better. That’s what’s important.”

And when Lucy hands Kara her drink, valuing the way her fingers brush over Kara’s, she’s fixed with a soft gaze. “Thank you, Lucy.”

Lucy presses her hands together, refusing the urge to reach out to Kara, “You’re welcome.”

* * *

 

It’s red and white and pink and everything Lucy hates about commercialized holidays.

Hearts are strewn everywhere, so much that Lucy has to stop multiple times to peel them off her shoes. Valentine’s Day is not something she typically partakes in, but she really likes her jobs and the perks.

(One that starts with a K.)

So she’ll allow the festivities for now.

Glancing at the clock, she smiles to herself as the bell rings right on cue. “Morning Kara.”

“Good morning Lucy!” Kara, decked out in red and white, almost blends in, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Lucy scoffs, “Yeah, you too. Any plans?”

“Um”, and if the way Kara’s face flushes, Lucy already knows the answer, “maybe? Still testing the liquids.”

“Waters”, Lucy corrects absentmindedly. Kara does that sometimes, but honestly, she can’t pay it any mind, because her chest feels a little tight. She blinks rapidly in an attempt to dispel the water that’s gathering in her eyes.

Allergies.

(It’s not because, if she had to choose anyone to spend this stupid, atrocious, useless, romantic, fun holiday with, it would be Kara.)

She sets to making Kara’s usual without asking, only looking up when Kara coughs into her hand. Out of the months Lucy’s known Kara, she’s never so much as sneezed. Lucy pinches the bridge of her nose, “Sorry. Just a little distracted. Name?”

“Your, um, your valentine?”

Kara shirks away from her eyes. “Your valentine”, Lucy repeats dumbly.

“I mean, if you- I was thinking we could. Oh geez, I’m sorry. This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? Bad idea. Sorry.”

“Wait”, Lucy rubs at her temple, because she’s not sure what Kara’s trying to ask even if she does just a little. It refuses to sink in. “Are you asking me-you’re. . what?”

“To be my Valentine. Or go on a date with me?” Kara looks down, nods to herself, “Both.”

“Oh.” Lucy forces the smile down, puts on a blank face that sets Kara into panicked tapping at the counter. It only lasts as long as it takes her to make the drink, but it’s adorable and makes Lucy’s chest swell with affection as she hands it to Kara.

Kara is still looking at her, so with a careful smile, she takes Kara’s finger to tap at the cup.

_My Valentine._

* * *

 

Kara isn’t answering her calls.

It’s one thing to miss their planned movie night. To miss pizza and ice cream and a movie that will probably make Kara cry because they usually do. It’s another thing entirely to not answer her phone.

Kara always answers her phone.

(Alex isn’t answering either which makes her stomach drop lower, because whenever Kara isn’t in school or with her, she’s with Alex.

Alex has an annoying habit of answering her phone with “Danvers.”

She’d do anything to hear it now.)

Lucy presses her fingertips into her jaw, waits until they’re numb before taking a breath. Tries to loosen tension in her frame, but she can’t, she can’t because something just feels _off_.

The city is quiet.

Not the calm before a storm, but the processing after destruction. Supergirl had faced down an alien, monster, whatever they wanted to call it. Lucy only knows one thing for certain: it destroyed. Anything in it’s path crushed and ruined and _broken_.

Smoke plumes upwards, drifting lazily as it raises above the city. Her fingers itch. To call her father. To shut off her phone.

She assumes they won, because she had received an email. The words _I’m fine_ about as comforting as those two short words could be coming from him.

She doesn’t want to go out.

Doesn’t want to see the devastation. Hear people walk through the remains of their lives, them cry as it sets in. Hear them cough as the dust settles in their lungs.

(Anytime someone coughs, she freezes.

She has tried and tried and god, how she’s _tried_ to break the habit. Every time though, all she can think is- _sunken eyes, coughs that wrack a smaller and smaller frame and oh, when had her mother become so_ small?)

Five minutes. Five minutes and she’ll go out, because hesitancy- no, it’s fear, the cold, sharp kind that steals the very breath from her lungs- will not prevent her from making sure Kara is okay.

That her family is okay.

(She counts. English and Spanish interweaving until she’s not sure what’s what other than that five minutes passes far too quickly.)

“Okay”, she grabs her keys off the counter, presses them a little too tightly into her palm to focus, “Time to go.” She opens the door only to stop.

Kara’s there, eyes growing wide as her keys fall to the ground. “Lucy?”

“Kara! Where have you- you didn’t answer and with everything happening-” Lucy grabs Kara, roughly pulling her inside and then an embrace. Kara’s breath falters above her ear, but she can’t think because she’s okay, warm and solid under her hands, and Lucy releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She presses her face into Kara’s shoulder, inhaling deeply, expecting lavender and something that only has Lucy thinking of endless blue skies and clouds and _air_.

But it’s not. It’s the keen smell of antiseptic that assualts her senses, has her lurching backwards. There’s something metallic about it, and she knows the smell, she _knows_ it.

Kara raises her hands, fingers splayed wide, “Lucy, it’s okay, it’s okay.” It’s not, because there’s bandages wrapped tightly over Kara’s arms, disappearing under her sleeves. She acts as if she doesn’t know what the red stains creeping through them are.

“Were you _there_?”

Kara scrapes one foot over the floor, “I couldn’t just leave all those people that needed help.”

Kara with her too big heart and too much compassion doesn’t think, just _acts_ . Lucy’s fingernails bite into her palms when she thinks that Kara is going to do something stupid one day and it’s going to result in something too permanent that Lucy can’t bear to name. “Kara.” Lucy tightens her fists, “There’s nothing you can do, why would you _even-_ you need to worry about yourself more. What would’ve happened if.” Lucy stops, takes a shuddering breath.

There’s an odd look in Kara’s eyes, not annoyed, but _fierce._ “People needed me!”

“What could you have done, Kara?”

Kara huffs, jerks her head to the side, before holding up one finger. She walks, slowly, and her gait is unnatural to the usual swagger Kara emits. After rummaging through her bag for a moment, she holds up-

A cup.

Kara passes it to her, and she looks down, recognizes her own handwriting. _Supergirl_. “Am I supposed to understand something here?”

Kara turns the cup in her hands, finger trailing over words that weren’t from her. _Kara Danvers. Kara Zor-El_. It’s Kara’s writing, the familiar irregular twists to the letters as if Kara was used to writing them differently. “I am Supergirl”, Kara whispers.

“ _You are_ concussed.” Lucy pulls Kara’s head down, runs her hands through her hair, checking to see if anything was missed.

Hands grip her wrists. “I’m Supergirl.”

“You’re bleeding.”

Kara’s fingers tap out a pattern on her wrists, “I may have ah, blown out my powers.” Her fingers swoop down, press on the underside of her wrists as she urges, “Lucy, _please_ just think. I disappear at times that just so happens she’s flying around? And I uh, well _usually_ I can fly. And oh,” Kara takes off her glasses, blinking for a minute, “Supervision.” She shakes her head, “Y’know I always thought the hard part would be convincing people I’m not her, not convincing them I am.”

Lucy’s noticed Kara’s _quirks_ , but to say they make her a hero? Well, Kara’s always been a hero, but a superhero? The girl who loves the sun and her people and cinnamon buns, and oh.

Who eats enough food that puts both James and Winn to shame. Who always manages to know where everyone is. Who somehow hears conversations even if she wasn’t in the room.

Who gets a haunted look while staring up at the night sky. Only gazing up in one spot. The same spot every time.

“ _Oh_.”

“Oh?”

“You’re Supergirl?”

Kara’s eyes close briefly, but when they open, they’re just, just so full of hope and trust and love and it makes Lucy’s eyes water in turn.

“I’m Supergirl.”

* * *

 

“Do you have everything you’ll need?”

Kara hovers uncertainly behind her, fingers alternating between lightly grasping her shoulder and rubbing small circles.

“Everything is checked off my list.”

“Everything?” Kara’s fingers get frantic in their pace. “You don’t need snacks or, or a charger? Make sure you have your charger. And your laptop!”

Lucy turns in Kara’s grip, reaches her own hands to slip behind Kara’s neck. “Kara”, Lucy raps her fingers against Kara's neck for a moment, knows it’ll help Kara focus and hopefully get the panic out of her eyes. “You know I wouldn’t forget anything.”

“Right. You’re efficient, you’ve got this, but are you sure-”

“Kara.”

“Just”, Kara sniffs, but she smiles and it makes Lucy’s world a little brighter, “Just call me if you need me. I’ll be listening. Remember, it’s just a short flight for me. Four hours.”

Lucy grins, “You think you’re that fast Supergirl?”

“For you.”

Lucy ducks her head, because oh, her heart’s beating faster than it was before since Kara can still catch her off guard with those comments. “As nice as that sounds”, Lucy pushes upwards on the balls of her feet to press her nose into Kara’s cheek, closing her eyes, “I’d think it would raise some suspicion with Supergirl showing up in Afghanistan.”

“No one would see me.”

“That’s like saying I didn’t see you steal my chips yesterday”, she waits until she feels Kara smile, cheek brushing against hers, “Kara.” There’s a curious hum, so she continues. “You have to be careful, okay?”

Kara pulls her head back, eyes squinting in what Lucy fondly thinks of as annoyance, “You’re the one going into a warzone.”

“Which means I’m not going to be here to tell you when you’re in over your head. To help you”, Lucy swallows thickly, “So promise me.”

Kara dips her head, “I promise.”

Lucy nods stiffly, unlocking the door and reaching in. “I picked up breakfast this morning”, she passes Kara her drink and a muffin with enough chocolate that would give Kara cavities if she didn’t have that whole immune to imperfections alien DNA.

Kara immediately looks at the cup, both of them used to apologies and dates and just _them_ being expressed on the sides. “Your”, Kara laughs, but it’s watery, “sunshine?”

Lucy clicks her tongue, “It was supposed to say my sunshine.”

“Lucy”, Kara laughs, hands coming up to frame her face. Lucy’s surprised when Kara fingers drag up under her eyes, wiping tears away. Kara’s nose brushes hers, and then they’re kissing, but Kara’s crying and she’s crying and she just doesn’t want to _go_. Wants to stay here with her friends and family and not alone in a different country with a father too proud to say he’s happy she’s there.

She wants to tell Kara. To tell her how much she’ll miss her. How much she loves her.

“It’s just a few months”, she says instead.

“I know.” Shaking fingers pull her into a tight embrace, and she can feel Kara tremble underneath her fingers. “You’re going to miss your father if you don’t leave.”

“I know.” Kara huffs at that, but smiles just the same. “I love you.”

And Kara, standing up under wisps of clouds and sunshine, _beams_ and makes everything pale in comparison.

“I love you.”

* * *

 

“Is that all?”

Lucy starts, the humming in her ear stopping as well. “Yeah, that’ll be it.”

“Name?”

Puffs of air tickle her cheek as Kara laughs quietly, arms slowly wrapping around her shoulders in a hug. Lucy smiles, purposely looks at Kara as she rubs at the band of metal on her finger.

“Kara Danvers-Lane.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
